


poppy kisses

by stardusting



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Makeup, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 12:52:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14716421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardusting/pseuds/stardusting
Summary: Prompto has the prettiest boyfriend in all of Eos, and he doesn't know what he did to deserve him.





	poppy kisses

**Author's Note:**

> implies a bunch of headcanons and throws promptis in there for the Good Shit. if you see any mistakes well, i'll find them later.

Noct has been home for fifteen minutes by the time Prompto decides to save the game he’s been steadily making progress on and go give his boyfriend the low maintenance company he deserves. Unsurprisingly, he finds Noct in the bathroom, fancier clothes swapped for a loose t-shirt and pajama pants; his hair pushed back by a headband to keep it out the way while he methodically rubs the makeup off his face with the same sort of focus he gives a difficult level on a game.

Prompto slides into Noct’s space with an ease that speaks of years of doing so, movements natural and near automatic, shoulder pressing against shoulder and hip resting against hip. Noct barely breaks stride in his task as he shifts to accommodate Prompto’s weight, a soft _hey_ given is his only acknowledgment.

“How was the banquet?” Prompto asks, eyes tracking Noct’s movements in the mirror. It’s a mesmerizing sight, one that he’ll never get tired of.

Noct shrugs more gracefully than anyone ought to be able to, “Not too bad actually.” he admits, tossing the used wipe in the trash and trading it for a fresh one.

There’s still mascara and eyeliner clinging around his eyes, but by now Prompto can see the features of Noct’s face that normally get covered up by powders and creams such as the beauty marks nestled near his mouth and above his brow. It’s a shame that Noct needs to cover them up at all, but the public has a tendency to be tearing towards their prince –wolves ready to strike and point out any flaw they can sink claws and teeth into. It was either invest the time and skill into makeup itself or pay someone to edit what’s there and risk photo getting circulated anyway. Noct doesn’t seem to mind the routine of makeup on most days, so it all must work out in the end. 

“There were a lot of new candidates wanting to be sponsored,” Noct continues, tongue tip peaking between his lips as he carefully removes the makeup from around his eyes. “got a few samples if you want to look.”

Prompto follows the gestured incline of Noct’s head, spotting a bag on the countertop next to all the collections of products he and Noct have complied and shared over the years. Interested, Prompto grabs the bag and sits down on the toilet lid, searching for anything that stands out. Contents range from old and new brands as well as ones that Prompto hasn’t heard a whisper about –more than likely the ones searching for sponsors that Noct mentioned. It’s mostly foundations and eyeshadow palettes and moisturizer of different scents; a nice haul that they can split with little fuss, and it isn’t as if they wouldn’t share anyway. Prompto even spots foundation colors too pale for Noct’s complexion and feels a soft swell of emotion in his chest that can’t be anything other than affection. It means Noct asked for things for him as well since Prompto couldn’t make it to the initial event due to college exams this entire week.

“These are nice,” Prompto says, and means it, attention currently grabbed by glittering eyeshadow palette comprised of smoky greys and charcoal blacks and a glimmering golden shade. _Etro’s Guidance_ it's called, definitely made with the royal family in mind. Noct would look nice with it on, then again, his boyfriend can make mud and a trash bag look fashionable if he put in the effort. “Anyone, in particular, caught your eye?”

Noct hums, having moved on from makeup removal to his nightly routine of moisturizers and scrubs, something brief but thorough rather than the whole process if the brands he spots are anything to go by. Prompto would join him for consistency’s sake, but all he’s had the energy to do lately is wash his face and take out his contacts; it’s the absolute bare minimum for him, but it gets the job done just as well.

“We actually had someone from Galahd show up for the first time in ever, so that was pretty exciting. Her line’s called _Aubade_ , and I’m pretty sure Gladio and Iris are gonna nab her since she specializes in darker complexions.”

“That’s great!” Prompto exclaims, head ducked back into the bag because he swore he saw something with that brand label on it while he was rummaging. “Big guy and Iris don’t have the easiest time finding stuff that compliments them from the higher end stuff.”

“Yep,” Noct agrees after a minute or so of silence, pushing back from the mirror to being cleaning up. “plus maybe it’ll help some people realize the Galahdian population is here to stay. I mean I know it’s just one person, but every step counts. It’ll definitely help with the Amicitias backing her.”

“You ever think it’s weird that they forget your mom was from Galahd or, like, don’t acknowledge it at all?”

“Not really,” Noct shrugs, words punctuated by the click of a top closing. “I’m pretty sure the council found it gracious enough to let my dad even marry her even though she was definitely _not of proper birth_ or something like that. I mean dad plays the mom was Galahdian so he has an obligation to help her people card all the time, and I can tell it annoys them.”

 Prompto sticks his tongue out as a show of sympathy, shaking the bag a little to hopefully aid in his search. “I hope you get a new counsel.”

“Ignis promised me a systematic but total upheaval of the old council at least six months after my ascension, so I don’t have to deal with appeasing those old guys.” Noct must be done if the way he drapes himself over Prompto is any indication, slumped low enough to rest his cheek against his hair. It won’t be good for his back for too long. “What are you looking for in there?” 

“I saw something with _Aubade_ on it,” Prompto trails off before giving a small exclamation of victory. It’s a sample size tube of lipstick that he holds out for Noct to see.

“Her products are completely organic,” Noct offers, breath ruffling strands of Prompto’s hair. “and most of the proceeds will go to helping orphans and kids in foster care.”

“She sounds great.” Better than a lot of the people looking for sponsorship from the nobility that Prompto has had the displeasure of meeting over the years.

There’s a small lull in the conversation, a comfortable silence, and Prompto looks up as much as he can with Noct leaning on him, though it means jostling their positions and bumping his forehead against Noct’s chin somewhat awkwardly. His boyfriend looks like he’s about to fall asleep, eyes half-lidded, but attention solely on Prompto in a way that makes him feel as if he’s the most important person in all of Eos.

Easy with his intimacy and love, Prompto presses a quick kiss against Noct’s cheek, feeling satisfied when a blush unfurls across his cheeks. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Noct’s voice is achingly fond as he kisses Prompto’s temple. “If there’s anything in the bag you like, keep it.”

“I like this.” Prompto holds the lipstick out for Noct to examine. “But I think it’d look better on you than me.”

“It’s a nice color, but I don’t like lipstick. Everyone looks good in red though, you’ll look fine.”

It’s a well-known fact that Noct doesn’t like lipstick, doesn’t like stuff on his lips in general if he can help it. Says he hates the tacky feel of gloss and the waxiness of other products and it doesn’t help he has a bad habit of lip biting. The longest Prompto has seen him wear anything remotely similar was for a couple of hours and that was mandatory for a photoshoot of some sort, and then he wiped it off as soon as he was able. Sometimes he can be convinced to wear balm if the weather is cold enough and skin suffering from it.

“You don’t wear a lot of red though.” Prompto points out; he’s seen Noct’s wardrobe and how it’s comprised of mostly blacks and greys and rare whites.

“Doesn’t fit with the image.” Noct shrugs, eyebrow arching into something little more scrutinizing. “Do you just want me to wear it?”

Despite himself, Prompto sputters his reply, caught off guard but how quickly Noct was able to catch on. “Am I that easy to read?”

“Prom, I’ve known you for how long?”

“Seven years.” He answers immediately, feels another flood of emotion ready to strangle his heart.

Noct looks terribly fond even as he rolls his eyes. “Technically longer than that, but you don’t like to count when we were twelve.”

“Yeah,” Prompto says in a way similar to how someone might say _duh_ , “because I fell flat on my face and lost five years of my life from embarrassment.” 

“I thought you were cute.”

Prompto huffs and doesn’t deign Noct with a response because he knows it’ll be a losing battle for him. They’ll go back and forth about whether Prompto was a cute kid and Noct will say something disgustingly sappy and Prompto will blush from ears to neck because he’s twenty-two and still bad at taking compliments from his boyfriend of five years.

His embarrassment keeps him quiet for a few seconds longer, but still long enough for Noct to sigh and relent to the request that technically wasn’t spoken out loud. Their weakness, after all, is each other, and if there’s one person in the world Noct has a problem saying _no_ to, then it’s Prompto, but the reverse is also true much to the stress of everyone that knows them.

Noct switches his position from standing behind Prompto to kneeling in front of him which Prompto sometimes wonders is treasonous for him to do so and all considering Noct’s the Prince, but he hasn’t actually gotten an answer from Noct, and he’s too afraid to ask anyone else for Reasons.

“You can put it on.” Noct says by way of permission, “It’s supposed to be smudge proof.”

“I think you mean kiss proof.” Prompto waggles his eyebrows with enough exaggeration to get a gentle hit to the knee in retaliation. “Babe, it was practically implied. Someone had to say it.”

“I could get up and leave right now.”

“But you won’t,” Prompto’s smile is coy around the edges as he grabs Noct’s chin with his thumb and forefinger and kisses him in a way that languid and unhurried before stating, “You love me too much.”

Prompto just gets another fond eye roll in return and a smile that’s small but perfect in ways that he can barely begin to describe.

Taking the silence as permission to get started, he does so, careful with each swipe the color over Noct’s lips. This isn’t the first time he’s done this, Noct having allowed him to use his face as a sort of testing area when Prompto was learning the intricate details of makeup rather than the basics of foundation and eyeliner. There were more than a few smudges and poked eyes, but Noct was good natured about it no matter what happened. Nerves and fluttering feelings made Prompto’s hands shake then when he was five years younger and achingly in love with his best friend, but his hands are steady now, strokes quick and efficient in their movement.

“Finished.” Prompto hums and admires his handiwork.

The color is nice on Noct, stark against his skin in a way that reminds Prompto of the red of sunsets or freshly unfurled poppy petals in the royal garden. It makes his eyes pop too, draws attention the deep blue color of them, makes them shine like the night sky at midnight, glittering stars and all.

“How’s it look?” Noct asks, and Prompto immediately offers the camera on his phone because he can’t find the proper words to describe how gorgeous his own boyfriend is. 

Noct scrutinizes himself, head tilting this way and that and lips slightly pursed in a way that’s more reminiscent of a pout. It’s hard to tell how he feels about it, but Prompto hears the shutter-click of his phone camera and guesses Noct must not mind it if he was willing to let Prompto keep a picture of himself with the color on.

“Like it enough to keep it?” Prompto wonders, closing the tube and tossing it back into the bag. He hopes Noct says yes.

“Still don’t like the feel.” Noct says with a shrug. “You’d look good in it too though, so you keep it.”

“We gotta test it though, to see if it’s really a keeper.” Prompto adds smoothly, well as smoothly as he can when he’s more than positive his boyfriend knows what he’s trying to do. “Make sure it’s smudge proof and all that.”

“You do know this would have been easier if you just told me you wanted to make out while I was wearing lipstick?”

“I know,” he can’t help the whine that edges at the end of his words. “but I’m trying to be subtle in a cool way.”

Noct’s nose scrunches in a way that’s endearingly cute like he wants to laugh but doesn’t, crooked smile and all. “You’re pretty cool already, Prom, don’t worry about it.”

“I feel like sometimes you say things like that because I’m your boyfriend and best friend. You have a double obligation and bias towards me.”

“Babe,” Noct says softly, affectionately, hands resting against Prompto’s cheek. “shut up.” 

Prompto would give his best pout at that, but it’s thwarted by Noct pressing a clumsy kiss against the corner of his mouth instead. It sends a small thrill down his spine as if they’re kissing for the first time all over again.

“Did it smudge?” He asks, genuinely curious about the product's durability.

“Actually, no.” Noct’s answer sounds impressed. “We can test it more though.”

When Prompto nods, Noct is quick to pepper his face with kisses, each one quick and fleeting as the brush of butterfly wings against his skin. Noct hums like he might be thinking about something, and that’s the only warning Prompto gets before their lips slot together. It’s easy for them to find the right angle without breaking contact, muscle memory in the most intimate of forms.

It doesn’t last for long though before Noct huffs through his nose and pulls back, lipstick still perfectly in place. “This is uncomfortable.” He mutters near shyly.

“We can go to the bedroom.” Prompto offers immediately. The tile floor can’t be good for Noct’s knee or back for too long, and Prompto would feel terrible if he ended up complaining about it in the morning.

Noct gets up first using Prompto as leverage, and Prompto in turns takes his hand when it’s offered. The bedroom’s a bit of a mess that needs cleaning, but they can worry about that later. It’s easy to step over things without tripping, enough light shining through the window, moon full and city lights bright against the horizon.

They end up side by side facing each other, Prompto with his glasses off, but they’re close enough that their foreheads touch, close enough that he doesn’t need his glasses to see Noct’s perfect face.

Unable to keep his hands to himself, Prompto cradles the back of Noct’s head in his hands, fingertips gently running against his scalp in the way Prompto knows gets him loose-limbed and sleepy. He can’t help the smile that stretches across his face, too in love to hold it back, and it somehow grows even wider when he spots the smile Noct gives him in return.

“I love you,” He says again, for the hundredth time in his life, and he will say it a thousand times more at this rate, but it’s a phrase he’ll never grow tired of.

Noct answers in the form of a kiss and Prompto lets him set the pace of a slow and gentle rhythm. It feels as though they have all the time in the world like this; it’s easy to get lost in the soothing slide of each kiss and the feeling of he and Noct being close enough that there’s little space between them. At this moment, there’s nothing to worry about: no exams, no duties, no stress; it’s them and only them. Noct’s hand wanders soon after, palm slowly dragging down the front of Prompto’s tank top until he slips under the hem of the fabric, fingertips a warm brand against the taut skin of his hip. It stays there though, nothing in their movements become more heated, just gentle sighs and soft smiles and the smell of berries from the lipstick that still somehow hasn’t smudged.

Prompto doesn’t know how much time has passed before Noct seems to taper off from him altogether, movements stilled and breaths evened out. He’s fallen asleep in the middle of making out; not the first time it’s happened, and definitely not the last. Prompto doesn’t mind at all, finds it endearing in the way that most of Noct’s quirks are.

He’ll probably regret falling asleep with the lipstick on, but Prompto knows it’s a futile effort to get him to wake up by now. So, he brushes a final kiss against Noct’s forehead and throws the covers over each of them.

Sleep is a welcome friend, dreaming comes easier and more peaceably with the person he loves the most by his side. 

**Author's Note:**

> honestly if squeenix won't tell me anything about aulea then it's my city now, and i make the rules. i really just wanted to throw my makeup loving noctis headcanon out there and it turned into prompto being Gay and in love with his boyfriend, but it's what they deserve. honestly i didnt think this dumb idea would even reach 1k words but hey it happens.
> 
> thanks for reading!!! pls leave a comment and/or kudo if you enjoyed it!


End file.
